


FAHC Comfort Fics

by your_cringy_bro



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Childhood Trauma, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I throw my trauma on characters so I don't have to deal with it, Insomnia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Deprivation, Trauma, i threw this together for fun, its implied not shown tho, yes im back im not sure why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_cringy_bro/pseuds/your_cringy_bro
Summary: I wrote a bunch of fics awhile ago for fun, not for the public, kind of for my own coping. I figured at this point I could share them, since some people might need to read this. God knows I'd appreciate it.Read the tags and be careful of your triggers.No beta, we die like men.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a regular dealers night out for everyone.

It’s a professional setting, the apartment cleaned spotless, everything flush with modern taste and glasses of champagne wandering around the room on trays being carried by Alfredo. 

Trevor does the talking, he always does, when it comes to new deals like this. Usually when these happen, it's because of someone up and coming in the city that needs to be taught the rules of their territory. Invite them, wine and dine them, then lay down the law. And Alfredo’s job is to stand next to him and look intimidating. However, to give an air of elegance, Trevor suggested he bring in drinks, pour their champagne. It was harmless, just a suggestion. Of course, outside of the situation, Alfredo was thrilled. Not only would Trevor now owe him one (and rarely did the crime boss not follow his promises), he could actually do something beyond grimace and wear sunglasses indoors. It would also allot time for him to jog into the kitchen and report back to the rest of the crew via text how the event was going. Because of course, they were not invited to business meetings like this. While Trevor enjoyed their company, and would stake his reputation of being one of the most powerful crews in the country, he understands their chaotic nature tends to ruin serious discussion. So while they run out and cause havoc, Alfredo and Trevor are stuck doing the dirty work. 

What Alfredo didn’t expect, however, was the flare of his anxiety. Usually he has it under control, or it’s explained away by nerves. But this was a situation that he couldn’t speak much in beyond a, “You’re welcome”. No speaking to Trevor or their, now arriving, guest.  
Said interested criminal leader came to their doorstep, and Trevor started his lengthy chess game only dictated by verbal agreements. If Alfredo wasn’t so in his head and anxious, he’d be in awe at how good his twin is at mind games. 

But his head was spinning with anxiety. This important meeting was going to be fucked up by his prissy nerves. He stood with his back to a wall, holding the champagne bottle. He chided himself internally, swearing under his breath at the tightness growing in his chest.  
He, the criminal sitting mere feet away from him, had a gun. Alfredo knew he had a gun. Hell, they all have guns, so why was he so fixated on the make and model of a weapon that wasn’t even in the forefront of anyone else’s mind? Yet all his mind could conjure was the barrel being pressed to his temple, the sickening crunch of bone and skull, betrayal. A set up. Something. 

This happened so often during deals, but never to the imaginary extent Alfredo saw in his mind. Maybe because he was so busy looking gruff, the actual realization that if something went wrong, no one would know besides the crew never dawned on him.  
He went from intimidating figure, to the weak gun-less serving boy holding champagne. 

“Sir?” Trevor snaps his fingers, not breaking eye contact with the man across from him. His forehead was glimmering with sweat, obviously not liking where the conversation was going. He points wordlessly to the two empty glasses, and the mental order is to fill them up. Chest and throat tight, Alfredo walks over and pops the top off the bottle. Then, as delicately as he can, he pours out the bubbling liquid into their glasses. 

His mind is a current of angry voices seeing how he’s shaking, how his hands are trembling with anxiety. His skin feels flushed red but cold with a dripping realization, when he pulls away, that Trevor was watching it.  
His eyes glance to it, then back up to Alfredo, who is already walking away and backing into the kitchen just a few feet away from where he was standing previously. 

He places the bottle in the bucket of ice, clenching his hands around a few stray cubes he steals from it.  
He can hear the discussion outside getting heated, and he feels like if he’s not about to fired, he’s going to be shot. He scrambles around for a weapon, finding nothing but the kitchen knives placed delicately in the drawer. This is it, he’s going to die. 

Someone steps into the kitchen, and it takes too long for Alfredo to realize it’s Trevor. He stops in the doorway, a hand on the overhanging threshold, like he was mid-step into the smaller sized kitchen.  
Alfredo coughs, trying to hide the tiny squeak of shock that escaped him. “I-- Where’s the--”  
“He wasn’t willing to work with us. I had to send him off.” Trevor finishes for him. He glances sideways at Alfredo, looking down at the open drawer. At the shaking hand clutching the butter knife. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice low.  
Alfredo drops the knife in the drawer and pulls his hands behind his back. He swallows hard and manages a smile, “Just kinda lo--looking around. This whole ‘waiter’ thing feels weird to me. And kind of racist.” He snorts, though the laughter doesn’t really feel whole. Rather, it’s empty and devoid of anything beyond nervousness. 

Trevor seems to recognize this, “It’s only for one time, and it’s over now.” He trails off, “It was kind of weird for me too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pour a drink before. It was… interesting.”  
He takes a step into the kitchen and holds his palm upwards towards him. “Can I see your hands?” Trevor asks.  
Alfredo blinks, surprised, “I-- what? No--they’re fine--” 

“Just because,” He shrugs, “I promise I won’t hurt you.” And that feels too genuine for Alfredo to be comfortable with. Emotions weren’t exactly his forte.  
Still, trusting Trevor, he pulls a hand out and places it on Trevor’s. And, god, he tries to get it to stop shaking. But the tremor is still there after the earthquake that was his mini anxiety attack in the middle of a meeting. 

Trevor holds up the hand, and levels his eyes with it, pausing to watch it’s slight shivering movement. His face falls softly into one of concern. He nods, holding Alfredo’s hand with two of his. 

“I didn’t know your hands shook like that. Like this.” He looks down at them instead of meeting Alfredo’s eyes, giving his hand a friendly squeeze.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt our deal with that guy-- Usually this isn’t--”  
“What’s it from…?” Trevor asks, ignoring his apology.  
“I have… I have some anxiety-- It’s nothing though,” He tries to wave it off, but it seems like Trevor isn’t having it. 

“Anxiety is serious, ‘Fredo. I know we’re coworkers, but we’re still friends. Hell, we’re still brothers.” He flashes a smile at their shared twin joke. 

“If you need to get some help, you should tell me. I’ll help you out. Or at least, I can avoid putting you in situations like that again.”  
“I was just being a pussy, I didn’t-- I don’t--”  
Trev squeezes his hand softly, “Don’t pull that toxic masculinity shit, Freddy.” He jokes, “If you need help, ask for it.”  
Alfredo’s mouth slams shut and he watches his hand in thought. 

“I… I think maybe I need some help.”


	2. Sleepless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin can't sleep, and Geoff is too much of a dad to let that slide

Gavin is their well-known hacker.  
And he fits the ticket for it as well, chugging coffee, nerds out over code shit that no one understands, stays up late and wakes up early. He’s a bit of a narcissist at times with the amount of gold the guy collects, but other then that-- he’s a typical movie trope hacker with too much time on his hands in the eyes of the crew.  
But in Gavin’s, the world is much different. 

He spent so long, before the crew, covering up his past.  
Weeks after weeks of secretly deleting and editing information he should never have access to. Spending time delicately retracing the signatures on his birth certificate, planting false evidence, duplicating files, and paying off strangers to do his hard to do field work. He was a wreck when the crew found him. And since joining, he’s certainly had more peace of mind knowing that they see him as nothing more than their goofy british hacker man, the voice in their ear. But god, if only that was the truth. 

He thought after all this, after spending so much time escaping, the pain would stop. But it only got worse. Only got more concentrated.   
Skillful. Now instead of staying up recounting the amount of times he’s broken the law trying to erase police files, he’s staying up to forget the nightmares that’ll haunt him worse in his dreams then in reality.   
Hell, even his grounding techniques don’t work anymore. 

“A1, B2, C3, D4, E5, F6,” He can get to M without stuttering now, with how long he’s been repeating those words to divert his brain off the topic of his past.   
The screaming, the yelling, the anticipation of one day feeling the fist against his cheek become a reality.   
He was so tired. 

Not even from the lack of sleep anymore, he’s gone days without even a nap. Just, emotionally. Drained. 

And eventually, he was going to be caught. But he wanted to delay that for as long as possible. So when Geoff catches him awake at 3 in the morning, he plans on escaping into his room to play on his phone until the morning. 

“You’re awake.” Geoff announces quietly, confusion clear in his voice. 

“Yeah, sorry, I was just,” Gavin gestures to the screen to give him a moment to think of a lie, “Working through some cold cases. Seeing if any of them are linked to the crew.”   
“Why?” Geoff looks genuinely lost, though that may be the sleepiness dragging at his eyelids.   
Gavin shrugs, “I’ll let you know in the morning. It’s kind of late to talk logistics.”   
“You’re going to sleep soon, right?”   
“Yeah, in a bit.” 

Geoff shakes his head, “Yeah like fuck you are, off to bed-- now.” He orders, gesturing to Gavin’s room with his head.   
Gavin looks at it with such apprehension. He really didn’t want to go in there. Since he didn’t sleep much, it had always felt like a guest bedroom more than his bedroom. Nothing adorned the walls, nothing special about the lining. It wasn’t him. It was someone else. A blank slate he didn’t want to talk to. 

He pauses for too long, long enough for Geoff to get concerned. The dad look on his face switching from annoyance to worry. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Gavin shakes his head wordlessly and starts to pick up his things, putting them away. Geoff isn’t convinced though. He sighs as quiet as he can and walks over to Gavin’s desk, the glowing monitors accentuating the dark bags under Gavin’s eyes. Geoff places a careful hand on his upper arm, squeezing it only barely enough to be noticed.  
Even then, Geoff can feel the muscles underneath his fingers tense and jolt out of habit. Something’s been going on, something Gavin has been good at hiding. 

The hacker has stopped picking up his things, deciding to now pick at a stray fleck of chipped paint on the counter top. The jig was up. They’d know he’s broken if he let this continue. 

“Why are you always up so late?” Geoff asks. It’s been a question burning in his mind since the day the kid and him crossed paths.   
“I don’t stay up late--” It wasn’t a lie, he stays up all night, but Geoff cuts him off.  
He tries to catch Gavin’s eyes, but the hacker is determined on looking down at the desk only. 

“Bullshit. You’re not as smooth as you think. I’ve heard from several people in the crew that they’ve seen you up at ungodly hours of the night. I let it go because Matt pulls late nights once in awhile, but these occurrences,” He pauses, trying to be careful with his words, “they’re happening almost all the time. Michael said he saw your monitor on last night, Ryan said you were on your computer when he came back in the early morning. No one ever sees you go into your room unless we ask you to. What’s going on?” His voice raises, only a minuscule, and Geoff’s heart aches when he sees Gavin flinch. Usually Gavin can keep his reactions to a minimum, but it’s so late, and he’s usually so unguarded at night when he knows no one will bother him.   
“Nothing, Geoff.” He whispers.   
“Somehow I don’t believe that.” Geoff replies. 

They stay at a standstill. Gavin quietly picking at his desk. Geoff holding Gavin’s arm as light as he can, trying to look into the boy’s eyes.   
He just can’t believe it otherwise. 

Eventually, after a long pause, Geoff knows he won’t get a confession tonight.   
He lets out a small breath before moving the hand on his bicep down to his forearm and tugging softly.   
The panic in Gavin’s eyes is animalistic, and a learned habit for sure, so when Gavin’s head whips around to look at him, finally, Geoff is taken aback. 

Geoff puts up one of his hands, obviously aware of how slow he’d have to be here.   
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Let’s just get you some sleep.”   
Gavin’s jaw clenches, and his eyes dart to the side, obviously embarrassed by the gentle care Geoff is taking to not scare him. He wasn’t used to this, to this level of understanding. 

“You don’t have to sleep in your room. In fact, why don’t you sleep in my room? I’ll sleep in yours, or I’ll go sleep with Jack. I’m sure she won’t mind.” He scoffs, amused at the idea of a pissy Jack letting him into his bed on the condition he never bother her this late again.

Gavin shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“You’re not. You just need sleep, Gav. I guarantee you'll feel better.” 

“No, I won’t.” He sighs, batting away Geoff’s hand. “But I’ll do it, if you let it go for the rest of the night.” 

Geoff grins, “Agreed.” 

He opens his door to let Gavin into his room, and quickly explains some of the rules. No jacking off, at least not without letting him know first, the light switch is a bit funky so you need to flip it twice, the sheets tend to slip so be careful in the morning, the closet makes an odd noise if you throw anything at it, if sleep is hard to come to him. Gavin laughs, settling in. He was wearing mostly all of his clothes, spare the hoodie that he was using as an extra pillow. 

Geoff bid him goodnight and took two steps into Gavin’s room before deciding-- Fuck that.   
Even from the outside, he can see the bare emptiness it emanates. 

He ashamedly goes back to his room and finds Gavin fighting sleep, already trying to wrestle with the need to nod off.   
“Sorry, your room sucks.” 

Gavin mumbles back something, obviously succumbing to the soft plush mattress and blanket.   
Geoff doesn’t think he’ll mind, so he steals a spare pillow and blanket, sitting himself down in a thick reclining armchair that he sits in to read. He lets it extend before adjusting in and almost immediately passes out. 

Gavin trembles as he feels the urge to shut his eyes becoming stronger and stronger. He can’t fight it forever, and knows that if he sits up-- Geoff will know. He tries turning on his phone, but through the sleep he can’t seem to operate it quite properly. He drops it in frustration, trying his best to stay awake, but knowing he’ll lose. 

It’s the sound of Geoff’s breathing that eventually lures him to sleep. 

And when he wakes up in the middle of the night (as expected), it’s in a sweaty mess. He coughs, feeling the rough dry lining of his throat scratch up his breath.   
His hands are sweaty, shaking. He can’t even remember his nightmare, but he knows it was as bad as he remembers them being. 

His body is wracked, but out of the blue he hears Geoff, “Gavvers?” The voice is lined with grief.   
He looks up, startled, and sees Geoff sitting up in the chair, gripping the arms like they were the only thing stopping him from getting up and rushing over to him. 

“Geoff,” He chokes out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up--” 

“Are you okay?” Geoff says, Not taking his eyes off of him. 

“I’m okay, I’m…” He rubs an absent hand across his neck, “I-I don’t… This is why... “ He trails off.   
This is why he didn’t sleep. 

Ashamed, he ducks his head and runs a hand through his hair. He can feel the cold sweat swipe off onto his palm.   
The bed creaks beside him, and Geoff is leaning into him, pulling his hands away from his face. 

Though Gavin can’t look him in the eyes, he knows the face he’s making. Geoff cups his chin, and uses his thumb to dry the thick tears rolling down his cheeks. He hated this. He hated that he needed help like this. That he had nightmares, that he couldn’t even control his own bodily functions-- like crying. 

He clenches his fists, resisting the urge to hit his thigh in anger like a child. 

“Nightmares.” Geoff finishes, “I’m sorry, Gav, I didn’t know,”   
“You weren’t supposed to.” Gavin spits.  
“What happened, man? What’s… what’s done this to you?” And Gavin can hear the interlacing of anger underline his words. He’s careful to keep it under control, but Gavin can tell its slipping the deeper into this depression Gavin gets.   
“Shit happened, Geoff. Fucking shit happened. And I thought I had left, and that it was all over. But it didn’t. It didn’t STOP. And the nightmares were a breeding ground for it. I just want… I just thought I only had to leave once, but I go back every time I go to sleep.” It pours out of him bitterly, letting the words flow as Geoff stays silent and rubs his back.   
It takes a moment, but the crying stops. And Geoff doesn’t leave.  
“I know you don’t want to hear this… but you need sleep. I know its hard, and I know you don’t want to.”   
“I’m so tired, Geoff.”   
“I know, I’m so sorry Gavin. If you want, we can get you some help. Therapy, meds, whatever. Anything you need that’ll make it better, easier, for you. But not sleeping… it’s killing you. I’m sorry we didn’t see it sooner, but this isn’t normal. You need your rest, Gav.”   
Gavin pauses, clenching and unclenching his hands.   
“I’m scared.” 

“I won’t let any of them hurt you, Gav. I promise. I know mentally you’ll be there, but I will always be here on the other side when you wake up. It won’t be permanent. And we can get you some help, make them stop.”   
“...Can you really?”   
“I don’t know," He admits, "but I’m going to do anything to make sure it happens.” 

Gavin nods, gripping the blankets tightly. “Would you mind if… I stayed here in the meantime? My… my room isn’t… it just doesn’t feel like my room.” 

“As long as you don’t mind my smelly feet.” Geoff jokes, “No, seriously, of course you can.” 

Gavin nods again, eyes again drooping with sleep. Geoff notices and pulls open the covers, sliding himself above the sheet Gavin was sleeping under to give them some distance. He slotted under the blankets and encouraged Gavin to do the same. The hacker laid back down and placed his hands on his chest.   
Geoff passed out almost immediately, and Gavin smiles when he saw that the man had tried really hard to stay awake for him. Gavin, scared and uncertain, shut his eyes and let sleep wash over him once again. 

His dreams, plagued with nightmares, tormented him once again. No, not even Geoff could stop them right away. 

But when he woke up, Geoff was right there. Waiting, ready, with open arms. Just like he promised, Geoff was always there.


End file.
